


Kiss

by thesweetpianowritingdownmylife



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 4+1, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4139493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesweetpianowritingdownmylife/pseuds/thesweetpianowritingdownmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Fisk wanted to kiss Wesley and one time he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The first time

**Author's Note:**

> These will be all short and (bitter)sweet.
> 
> The Wilson/Vanessa is mostly background, sorry.

The first time was when discussing the terms of an exchange with the Yakuza, before Nobu showed up in Hell’s Kitchen. The man with whom Fisk was talking had no notion of English, so Wesley had to interpret back and forth.

The man was getting restless; he didn’t agree with the conditions that they were setting on the table. As the conversation proceeded, the man became less and less polite, spitting out insults towards Fisk that became more mean-spirited with every retort.

At one point, Wesley had had enough.

“If you disrespect my employer one more time,” he warned in perfect Japanese, “this discussion will be over, and you’ll have to find someone else to buy your bosses’ weapons. Are we clear?” His tone was metallic and there was steel in his eyes. Fisk had to school his features into something neutral –after all, he was supposed to not understand the remark– and choke down a strange urge to pull his assistant to him and kiss him.

The man nodded, a bit taken aback by Wesley’s strength. The negotiation proceeded without any more hiccups, and they ended up agreeing on the transaction.

Afterwards, Fisk asked Wesley about what he had told the man when he hadn’t been translating Fisk’s words.

“I was not one hundred percent sure I had understood what he had said, so I asked for a confirmation.” Wesley lied nonchalantly. “Nothing to be worried about.”

He smiled at him, and Fisk smiled back. He would let him get away with that white lie.


	2. The second time

The second time was in an abandoned building. They were supposed to meet one of their associates there, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was an explosive hidden under the table.

The blast was supposed to take them all by surprise, and it would have, if Wesley hadn’t sensed something at the very last moment and tackled Fisk down. The bomb exploded as Fisk hit the ground, turning everything to chaos. Fisk couldn’t see from the smoke, and could barely hear anything from the ringing in his ears. It looked as if the world itself had caught on fire.

He held onto the weight on top of him by instinct, and realized that it was moving and talking to him.

“Sir! Are you ok? Are you alright?” Wesley kept repeating loudly, also part-deafened by the sudden noise, mere inches from Fisk’s face.

Fisk made a quick mental inventory; his ears were ringing, but they would recover, his back was hurting from the impact and his lungs were burning up because of the smoke. As long as he got out of there soon, he would be alright. He nodded.

Wesley tried to get up, but he stopped the movement and wailed in agony. Fisk helped him get off him and sit on the ground, where he checked him out. He paled when he saw the other man’s back completely charred, parts of his suit blended with his skin, bloody and black.

Wesley stopped screaming and took a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re ok?” He asked.

Fisk guffawed a little hysterically. His assistant must have been in unimaginable pain, but he was still more concerned about Fisk’s wellbeing. It was so heartwarming that he felt compelled to kiss him, but he held himself back. The most important thing was getting them to safety. He pulled Wesley up –which tore a yell from his throat– and helped him hobble out of the ruined building.


	3. The third time

The third time was when Wesley offered to give Fisk dancing lessons. They had plans for Fisk to come out into the light at some point, probably sooner than later, and Wesley had suggested he learn some basic moves. He would probably have to attend boring events in which he would have to show off some pretty thing dangling from his arm, and treat her right in the dance floor. “I have the gracefulness of an elephant, but I think the biggest obstacle in your plan will be to find a pretty woman who would willingly spend the evening with me.” Fisk had joked self-deprecatingly, and Wesley had frowned and turned his lips into a thin, straight line that didn’t disappear even when Fisk accepted the offer.

They had been practicing for a couple of months, snatching moments between their busy schedules, and Fisk was starting to get the hang of it. He was still not very good at leading, but he let himself be led with ease.

“Good, now step back, step aside, shift the weight…” Wesley instructed as they twirled around his living room. They didn’t do it at Fisk’s place if they could avoid it, because it was filled to the brim with cameras for his security, and they didn’t want to give his bodyguards a show.

At that moment, they were dancing more separated than necessary so Wesley could check on his footwork. He smiled approvingly. “You’re getting very good at this.”

Fisk laughed. “You don’t have to butter me up.”

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I would do that?”

“Fair point.” He tried to hide his amused smile, without success.

Wesley moved so that they were chest to chest, and the sudden closeness made Fisk err a step. He was leading now, Wesley’s hand was on his shoulder, and the other was held delicately in his. Fisk stepped carefully, gaining confidence as the song went on, encouraged by Wesley’s impressed smile. He decided to kiss him then, when the song ended. They would stop moving, he would lean forward and…

Their dance was cut short as someone knocked on the door.

“Sir?” Francis asked from the other side. “You will be late for the meeting with Mr. Owsley.”

Wesley stepped back, expression as sour as if he had sucked on a lemon. Fisk tried to content himself with the thought that he looked as disappointed as he felt. He entertained the idea of pulling him back and going through with it, but Wesley was already walking to the stereo and turning the music off.

“Will have to take a rain check on that, I’m afraid.” He muttered.

“Yes.” Fisk confirmed, a little more eagerly than he would have liked. Wesley’s lips curled in that soft smile that he never got with anyone other than Fisk.

“Shall I see you when you’re done with the art gallery?” He asked. Fisk nodded and Wesley left the room.


	4. The fourth time

4.

The fourth time was at the hospital.

“But some of us deserve to.”

Fisk could tell that Wesley’s voice was close to breaking as he said these words. He looked as tired as Fisk himself felt, and equally worried. Wesley always put Fisk first, and this was no different. Here he was, telling Fisk he deserved to be happy, to have everything he wanted. Fisk knew Wesley would strive to provide it for him, and expect nothing in return.

“Thank you, Wesley.” He replied honestly. “I…”

Fisk wanted to kiss him and tell him how much he cared about him. They had been dancing around this for months, years even. Fisk wanted to make sure Wesley knew he loved him. But it wouldn’t be right, not now, with Vanessa agonizing in the next room. When she was out of danger, they would talk about this, the three of them, because Fisk didn’t think he was capable of living without either of Wesley nor Vanessa. He knew they would understand.

“Thank you.”


	5. The time he did

+1.

Fisk sat next to Wesley’s body, heartbroken and angry. He caressed his assistant’s face delicately, and then leaned to kiss his forehead.

After all, now there was nothing to stop him from doing so.


End file.
